Mum's A/N: Well, this is it, readers, the final chapter of Tea and Sympathy. We'll follow it with an epilogue and one more sidestory courtesy of Jocelyn. Thanks for all the reviews! We have now broken 1000!
Joce's A/N: Mum and I were afflicted with a joint muse attack last night and plowed through the remainder of this chapter until two in the morning! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ginny was right. She wasn't the only one talking less-than-kindly about Hermione. Over the next few days, Hermione was more conscious than before of the whispers and veiled glances directed her way, of conversations that would break off abruptly when she came near. The mutterings and looks weren't exactly suspicious anymore, but they were resentful. As though Hermione had no right to move freely among the Order anymore.
It confused and frustrated her, alternatingly angered and grieved her. She mourned the friendships that had been sullied; Ginny could still barely bring herself to be civil, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that even Ron was hesitant in some of his interaction with her. In Ron's case, she understood, but she found herself increasingly irritated with Ginny, who seemed determined to single-handedly punish Hermione for crimes real and perceived. Even the more suspicious members of the Order had admitted that Hermione had acted in good conscience, if taking a serious risk and scaring the wits out of everyone. Ginny was half-insinuating that Hermione's motives had been of the more sinister type, a suggestion that was absurd to anyone willing to be rational.
"She's just angry and trying to find a reason for it," Susan told Hermione later.
Hermione sighed. "Well, if my having scared her wasn't reason enough, what does she want from me?"
"Not you. Harry," Susan said knowingly. Hermione frowned. "I don't think she'd be so bitter if he hadn't sided with you."
"There are no sides!" Hermione exclaimed. "There never was more than one side!"
"I know that," Susan replied. "And so does almost everyone now, but Ginny won't accept it. She's not being reasonable… she doesn't want to be. She's always been a bit… well… a bit jealous of you."
"Of me!" Hermione's mouth fell open. "Of me… of me and Harry? But that's ridiculous!"
"Well, she didn't think you were likely to steal Harry, if that's what you mean, but you two always have terribly close. You, Harry, and Ron; Ginny was never part of that, even after she and Harry started dating. You still have something from him that she doesn't."
Hermione couldn't restrain a huff. "Well. I'm dreadfully sorry, but you'd think someone with six siblings would understand these things; I was always a bit jealous of her for that, but I certainly don't act the prat about it."
Susan said charitably, "Just give her time. She was scared, you know. Not just for Harry, but for Ron too." Hermione winced, and Susan patted her shoulder. "It's all over now. It'll be all right."
Well, it was… and yet, it wasn't.
Word came to the hospital wing the day before Hermione was to be released that the Wizengamot had cleared Severus Snape of all charges in the death of Albus Dumbledore. No one exactly shouted for joy, but no one shouted in outrage at the injustice either; even Hermione found that she had conflicted feelings about it. A part of her still grieved for the old Headmaster's death and the manner of it, and wanted somebody to answer for it, but on the other hand, she'd never forgotten Snape's furious confession of his own pain at being responsible. It reminded her too much of what she'd had to do to Harry.
Voldemort didn't suffer nearly enough, she finally concluded, and even got the courage to voice it to Harry. He and Ron surprised her by emphatically agreeing.
"A lot of people had to do things they should have never had to even think about," Harry said to her quietly, filling her with emotion all at once.
"What does that mean for you now that Snape's been let off?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged helplessly, "No one's told me anything."
"If the Wizengamot were going to charge you, they would need your accomplice," Madam Pomfrey told her. "You cannot be guilty of anything he is not guilty of, therefore I suspect you will not even be called before them."
Startled, Hermione blurted, "Will the Order accept that?"
Madam Pomfrey's mouth twisted slightly. "They will have to. Eventually."
Hermione suspected she knew what the Healer was talking about, and sure enough, Moody happened by later that day, grumbling under his breath. "Justice" this and "laws" that and "Order" this… something in Hermione snapped.
"Did you want to say something?" she asked him coldly.
Ron and Madam Pomfrey stiffened, Harry came out of his chair, and Moody turned slowly towards her. "I want to say a lot of things, Granger. But suffice it that you're bloody lucky that Wizengamot can't be bothered to make you explain yourself, even if it's better than you deserve."
"Explain myself?" Hermione repeated, feeling as though her insides were growing hard. "Is there something in particular you still don't understand?"
Moody blinked, and his magical eye whirled. "What?"
She wished she could stand up with certainty that she wouldn't fall, but instead, she settled for folding her arms and sitting up straight in her hospital bed. "I said, is there something you still don't understand?" When Moody hesitated, she growled, "What… do… you… want? What do you want from me? What do you want to know that you're so keen to put me on bloody trial when you know perfectly well what I did, how I did it, and the reason why! Well? Go on, then! I'm not going anywhere! Ask me whatever you bloody want to know, damn it!" She was almost shouting, but she didn't care anymore.
And as she predicted, Moody was unable to come up with any questions for her. Madam Pomfrey and Ron exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Then Harry abruptly spoke up. "Did you ever worry about what Snape would really do to me?" Hermione turned to him in alarm, and he spoke with a casualness that belied the seriousness of the question. "I mean, did you ever worry he might just kill me or give me to Voldemort?"
Indignation disappeared. "Of course, I did," she said in a small voice. "I've… never been so scared. I kept wondering if I might be wrong…"
"Then why'd you help him?" Moody asked curtly.
Determined not to break down like a baby in the face of uncomfortable questions that they did, she had to admit, have a right to ask, she swallowed hard and met his eyes. "By the time he… Snape, I mean… asked, I trusted him. I did. I spent months with him helping me, helping the Order. It went beyond any game he might've been playing for Voldemort; the things he did for us would've got him Crucio'd to death." She recalled the time he'd come to her with the aftereffects of the curse still visible in his bearing and struggled to hold back a shudder. A little voice in the back of her mind told her she'd been thinking unfairly about him lately.
She shook her head and went on, "I was scared for Harry, but only that something might go wrong. Every… every… logical part of me, every part of me that was my head and not my… my heart," she felt herself blushing. "That part of me knew Snape was telling the truth and that he wouldn't hurt Harry." She turned back to Harry and murmured, "That's why I did it. I didn't want to. I knew how awful it'd be for you, for everyone. I yelled at him, begged him to find another way. We talked about any other ideas, but there was nothing that wouldn't blow his cover and put Voldemort on guard. That's why…" She finally had to break off and look away.
After a long silence, she heard Harry say to Moody, "Are you satisfied now?" Moody must have indicated some reply, because Harry said, "Then leave her alone. She's explained enough."
Hermione managed to look up again as Moody left the hospital wing, and saw that Harry was now looking at Ron. "If they'd told me before… I'd have blown his cover. I wouldn't have listened. None of us would've listened. The war would still be on, and we might all be dead."
Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, then back to Harry again, and nodded.
She was very glad to be released from the hospital wing the next day and free to get away from the muttering and staring of the Order. Now that there was no danger of her being charged as a traitor, once she was up and walking, she managed to persuade Harry and Ron that she didn't need them minding her.
Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey had warmed to her again, as had Harry and Ron, but the rest of the Order seemed to keep their distance, and in the end, she just wanted to be alone. So she wandered out onto the grounds, and before she knew it, found herself pacing down to the greenhouses. An ironic choice of hideaways, she had to admit.
She saw Neville and Susan with Professor Sprout in Greenhouse One, wrestling some violently-struggling plant, and they waved cheerfully at her. It was a relief to be able to smile and wave back, but she didn't join them (even if she had wanted to brawl with that thorny thing they were trying to prune, which she didn't.) She made for the furthest of the greenhouses, found herself a bench, and sat down.
The quiet was pierced by the soft hissing of the irrigation spells, and also by soft buzzing. She put down her book and narrowed her eyes at the thick vegetation; sure enough, there were hummingbirds darting among the plants. It made her smile. Several zipped close to investigate her before buzzing away again, and she sat still, looking into their little faces until they took off. One little emerald-backed creature with a white neck and body landed on a small branch nearby to sip from a blossom, pausing between dipping its beak in and out to glance around. Then it leaned back and simply fell off the branch, its wings buzzing up to full speed and carrying it up and away in the time it took Hermione to blink.
"Hermione?"
She stiffened. She'd known he would come, but couldn't account for the tension she felt now at his presence.
"Severus."
He looked different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it at first, but… he had changed. Something about his bearing was different, as though he were both more and less overshadowed by the war than he had been as a spy. Yes, that was it.
He made no move to approach her; it was rather what she'd expected. He looked as unsure as she felt, but what he was feeling, she couldn't guess. His black eyes burned into her, seeming to see right through her and making her feel like a student again. She dropped her gaze from his, instead watching the hummingbirds as they darted among the leaves.
"Moody said the Wizengamot dropped the charges."
"He is correct," said Snape. His voice was low and even.
"They believed Dumbledore's portrait after all?" she asked.
"Yes, after it was combined with additional evidence."
That made her look at him in surprise. "What new evidence?"
"A memory of Dumbledore's was discovered. It contained all the plans we'd made during the year preceding his death."
Hermione frowned. "But surely they must have considered the possibility that the pensieve might have been tampered with. Why would that be any more reliable than the portrait?"
"I assure you that anyone attempting to tamper with this particular memory would have had a very bad time of it." Snape's lips twitched. "Dumbledore placed the memory into Minerva's mind."
"What? You mean… she's been carrying it all this time? Then why didn't she know that you hadn't murdered Dumbledore?"
"She was aware that she was carrying his memory, but she was not able to experience it. The facts became evident only after it was removed from her mind and placed in a pensieve."
"That's… that's just amazing. Did the Headmistress say what it was like carrying Dumbledore's memory in her brain?"
"Most of his conscious thoughts were repressed, until the memory was removed. But she did note a persistent craving for sherbert lemons."
Hermione laughed, and felt some of the weight of the last several days starting to lift from her. Then she sighed.
"I'm glad he provided for you." Snape nodded in acknowledgement, and she asked, "How is Draco?"
"He returned to Hogwarts with me. Other than that, he is as well as can be expected given the circumstances."
Hermione shivered. "Will he be all right?"
"I believe so. He is a very resilient young man."
"I think you're right," Hermione said. She looked at him. "Are you all right?"
"I once considered Lucius Malfoy a friend, although I harbored no illusions about what he truly was. I am glad of his final decision. If my cause was to succeed, there was never any fate for Lucius except agony and death. I knew that, but I find that I am glad that he defied the Dark Lord in the sight of his son. That fact has been a boon to Draco as well."
"Do you think he would have turned on Voldemort, if he hadn't killed Narcissa and threatened his son?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know, but I do believe that by the time the last lines were drawn, he understood and that put him on the same side as his son."
"What will Draco do now?"
"He has a number of options, more than he expected, I think. The Headmistress wished to speak to him as soon as he arrived. I imagine his future was the subject. Harry Potter was anxious to see him, too, much to my surprise." He shook his head.
"Nothing Harry does surprises me anymore." She hesitated, then looked at him directly. "What will you do?"
"I have a number of options as well, but I have come to no decision as yet."
She was almost afraid to ask the next question. "Is there something stopping you?"
"I wished to wait until I knew what you had planned for yourself." He was the one who hesitated now. "I would have returned to inquire after you sooner, had it not been for the danger of increasing the Wizengamot's attention upon you. Nevertheless, I am… I remain in your debt, for all that you have done for me."
"I see." Hermione felt the weight return, heavy with disappointment. "I am an obligation to you."
"That is not exactly my meaning."
She walked away from him, and fingered the red blossoms of a lush plant. "It doesn't matter. I am not tied to you in any way, and you needn't worry that I expect something from you. You are free to do anything you want now, so please, don't let any thoughts of me hold you back."
"All the same… I should like to know your situation here, before I depart. I am aware of the difficulties that you have had with the Order, and I am responsible for having put you in that position."
Hermione shrugged. "You asked, but I made the choices. And you were right. I don't deny that some of the Order are still a bit cross with me, but I'm not in any danger."
"But your plans after the war…" Snape pressed.
She cut him off. "I haven't made up my mind, either. There are a number of people I need to talk to: Harry, Ron, my family, the Headmistress. People whose opinions I want." It hadn't come out quite the way she meant it. She almost blurted out that she hadn't meant that, but held back.
Snape's face had no expression, but his presence was suddenly making her want to cry… and she was tired of crying, so she turned away altogether.
Why can't you just go away?
"Then I will not intrude upon your deliberations, nor upon your privacy, whatever you decide." He made her a slight, stiff bow. "If you require any assistance… "
He was walking towards the entry, quicker than she'd expected.
"Severus…"
He paused. Suddenly, there were a hundred things flitting around in her head like hummingbirds, things she felt she ought to say. But they were moving through her mind so swiftly that she couldn't seem to catch them long enough to speak. Finally, she whispered, "Thank you."
Snape blinked. "For what?"
"For trusting me." Snape frowned and leaned toward her, as if he were wondering if she had been brain-damaged by the curses. Hermione stepped backward reflexively. "For trusting me with your work, for what you did… for letting me help."
This time, it was Snape who dropped her gaze. "I asked nothing of which you were not capable. I have been long aware of the extend of your abilities." Awkwardly, he added, " I find that I do regret the circumstances in which you were placed and what you suffered, and I understand that some actions of mine…"
She might not have understood what he meant, but she had never seen him blush before.
"I don't regret them!" she blurted out. He blinked, and she felt blood rushing to her own face. "I… er… do regret some things, but… um… not that."
Snape muttered. "I needlessly complicated an already dangerous situation. I spoke often to you, and to Potter, about the necessity of maintaining emotional control. I did not expect to lose that control myself."
Hermione huffed. "If you had your way, we would have fought that war without ever knowing what we were fighting for. Harry cares about all of us, and I care about him, and them, and… and…"
There was something new in Snape's eyes as he regarded her. It was as though a curtain had parted. Just as quickly, his expression closed again, and he drew himself up again, as if something in his body pained him.
"You are very young. You have not experienced enough of life and the realities of war, and what choices become necessary."
"I've experienced enough war to know that we should never let go of the people we love!" she snapped.
He did not react, but she was horrified, remembering what he had said to her. "For the sake of ending this war and the threat of the Dark Lord's dominance once and for all, I murdered the one man in the world I have ever truly called a friend."
Now again, she felt like a schoolgirl, upstart and inexperienced, opening her mouth when she hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about. Perhaps, after all, it would be better for both of them if she took some time to grow up. She wasn't some heroic damsel and he wasn't a noble warrior… this wasn't a book. He was still watching her, and she forced herself to look at him again, feeling terribly ashamed.
"You're right," she murmured. "We both have options now, and we should make our decisions without… bias."
Snape looked away and cleared his throat. "Quite right," he said, brisk and impersonal. "It's for the best."
"Yes, of course," Hermione said, marveling that her voice sounded so steady.
Snape bowed to her once more, and took his leave.
It's the right decision, she told herself. It's for the best.
When she got back to the castle, all she wanted was to go to her room and hide under the covers. But as soon as she came through the main doors, she could hear raised voices.
Lord, what now?
As she drew nearer to the great hall, her fears were confirmed: one of the voices was Harry's, and the other was Ginny. She was reaching for the door handle when it suddenly opened, and frazzled-looking Ron came out. They both rocked back on their heels, but then Ron hissed, and pushed her away from the door. He didn't seem upset with her personally, so she guessed what he was about to say.
"Don't go in," he told her. "You'll only set them off worse."
Before she could question him, an angry, hurt voice reached her ears. "Harry, please!"
Her stomach lurched. It was Remus Lupin.
His voice heavy with emotion, Harry shouted. "Get away from me. You've got no right. I'm not your bloody property!"
"If you'd just listen…" Ginny's voice was angry, but Hermione could tell that she was crying.
"I have listened! I've listened to everyone telling me what to do, what to think, who to trust… for this ENTIRE BLOODY WAR! I've had enough, and the war's over! If you lot don't approve of the company I keep, you can bloody well sod off!"
Ron was cringing, and Hermione leaned heavily against the wall beside the doors, as they heard furious footsteps pounding across the stone floor. Somewhere in the great hall, another door slammed violently, and they both winced. In the corridor behind them, someone let out a long, low whistle.
"Told them off, has he?" Ron and Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning nonchalantly against the opposite wall. "I knew it wouldn't be long. That one looked like a cauldron ready to boil over when I got here!"
"He has been wound a bit tight," Ron admitted. At Hermione's grimace, he said, "Believe me, there's nothing you can do. They're all barking. And you… well, you know." He patted her on the arm apologetically. He waved at Draco and said, "I'll leave you to it," and started down the hall. He paused and turned back to Hermione. "It's not your fault."
Hermione's throat tightened, and she couldn't look at anything but the floor. Draco came over.
"He's right, you know. Both that it's not your fault, and that they're barking."
That made her look up at him, and she couldn't help smiling.
"But their fighting…" she began, and he cut her off.
"Is not just about you," Draco finished, folding his arms. "Have to admit I was surprised. Never expected Potter to turn into Snape's biggest fan. That was the final coal under the cauldron, if you know what I mean." He shook his head. "Screaming like a bloody banshee. I thought he was going to rip La Weaslette's head off. And Lupin!"
"What did he do?" Hermione asked.
"He wasn't a bad Defense teacher; bloody fool should have know when to back off, especially when Potter went off on Weasley." Draco looked genuinely baffled. "'Laying the facts'… or the facts as he knew them, at any rate…"
"What facts?" Hermione demanded.
"About the people who had supposedly been killed by trusting Snape."
"You mean Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, him first… I think Potter might have let that go, if Lupin hadn't kept on. Brought up Sirius Black, and even Potter's dad."
Hermione hissed. "Oh god! That's… that's…!"
"Unbecoming a decent werewolf?" Draco finished.
Hermione almost spat. "He knows it's more complicated than that. Oh… how could he?"
Draco raised his hands. "You're conjuring for the coven, Granger. But, yeah, that's the gist of it. Potter did a great raging hippogriff imitation, and he swears he's leaving Hogwarts."
Hermione groaned, and Draco said. "There's no avoiding it. He's not the only one. We're not students anymore, and Hogwarts isn't the bastion of wisdom and welcome it used to be." He pulled a face. "Headmistress is all right, but all the same, I think I'll be off soon, too."
"You?" Hermione stared at him, and could see that he wasn't just being cheeky. She sighed. "Oh, Draco… what will you do?"
"The Malfoy estate is in a bit of a mess right now, and it'll take a few years to sort it out. I have to get our interests out of all the old Death Eater dealings, and into more legitimate ventures. I lost more than half the family's worth in Ministry fines already. No doubt you've heard."
Hermione nodded. "But what will you do for yourself?"
Draco shrugged. "Maybe an apprenticeship in a few years, when things have settled down. But not before I've got the Malfoy name out of the mud. You?"
"I haven't really come to any decision, but I imagine that I'll be leaving as well."
"All good things come to an end, and all bad things as well… I hope. And Snape?"
"What about Snape?" she demanded.
"C'mon, Granger. This is me you're talking to." He gave her a sly grin. "The war is over now, and you and he…" He waggled his eyebrows.
"Well, we're not!" Hermione exclaimed. "He's going his way… and I… I'm going mine. And you're right… the war's over, and it was just… I mean… we…"
To her intense relief, Draco blushed and looked down. "Sorry, I just didn't know if you were still…"
"No, we're not." She said it flatly. "It was just one of those… things."
"Okay." Draco didn't speak for a few moments, and then, "Hermione," he said slowly, "if you've got no plans… I mean, commitments… then what about… I mean, would you consider…"
"Consider what?"
"I know you and Snape were… I mean, I know you were not… like that, with me. And I wasn't like that with you either… not that you're not… nice, and all. But now that the war's over, there's not many people that I.. you know, respect… and not many people like me much either."
Hermione was getting increasingly uneasy. "What are you trying to say?"
"Well, you're going away, and I'm going away, and we get along… all right… somaybewecouldgoawaytogether."
At this point, she couldn't help wondering which of their faces was redder.
"Um… well… I don't quite understand. What is it you want from me… us?"
"I don't mean anything by it," Draco said, quickly. "Just… we get along, and I was thinking that maybe… later on… things might… happen."
"Happen? Things?"
"It's just that I don't have a lot of prospects." His mouth fell open. "Oh, shite! I didn't mean it like that."
Hermione couldn't help bursting into hysterical giggles. "No offense taken. The truth is, I don't have many prospects either. And I think you're… nice, too. But just because we don't have prospects… that's not a good enough reason to… you know."
"Okay." Draco folded his arms and grinned at her. "But it could have been fun."
He may have uncommonly improved in the last year, Hermione thought, but he's still a cheeky brat.
"If you behave yourself," she teased him, "I might even come and visit."
"Under cover of darkness and in a black veil, I hope," he leered.
"As a friend, you prat!"
His smile became less sly, and he answered her with uncharacteristic sincerity. "As a friend… I'd like that."
Hermione hovered her trunk out the door of her room, and down the flights of stairs to the main corridor. Trotting down the stairs behind her, Harry was carrying even less, a single bag slung over his shoulder.
"You're not taking much," she said.
"I don't own much," Harry replied. "I'll be fine."
She didn't question him, knowing from past investigation into Harry's family that his father had left him a sizeable legacy. As long as he wasn't absurdly spendthrift, his Gringott's vault would keep him comfortable the rest of his life. But knowing Harry, if he was going to be spendthrift in any way, it would be because he was too generous.
"So, where are you going first?"
"Crossing to France. It's the easiest. We went to Dover on holiday once, but the Dursleys left me in the room all day. I loved sitting on the balcony and watching the ferry come and go. So, I'm starting there."
"Used to dream about running away on the ferry, did you?" Hermione smiled.
"That's what I'm doing, isn't it?"
"No, you're exploring. No time schedules, no rules, no constraints, no…"
"Prophecy." Harry finished. "And no Harry Potter." He pulled his fringe down over his scar. "I tried a glamour, but it still wouldn't hide the bloody thing. Muggle way will have to do."
"And speaking of putting things in the past," They were in the corridor outside the great hall, and she nodded towards the door, "You should say good-bye."
Harry's face hardened, and he shook his head. "There's no need. They know I'm leaving."
"That's not the same thing," she said, and as he tried to keep walking, she stopped and caught his arm.
"Harry, you don't know how long you'll be gone. If you don't at least take your leave, it will weigh on you the entire trip."
"Nuh'won't," Harry muttered, like a sulky child. But the fact that he didn't wrench free was telling, and she didn't move, holding his arm and watching him until he relaxed.
"They're still holding out about you, y'know," he said. "I don't like it. It's not fair."
"Someone told me that nothing about war is fair. I can accept that, but whatever right or wrong things they think, they love you and you know it. You've got every right to go away, and find out what life has to offer other than prophecies and scars. But, please, don't take any regrets with you. Just tell them good-bye."
"I did leave them something," Harry began, but she shook her head.
"That's not the same, and you know it. If you leave here angry, and leave them angry, it will never be right again."
Harry looked close to breaking. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She watched the play of emotions across his face, indecision, anger, hurt, frustration, sorrow. He glanced over his shoulder at the great hall doors, then turned back toward her, with a heavy, put-upon sigh.
"Well…" he glanced past her for a moment, towards the castle entrance, then shook his head at her. "I don't know why I let you talk me into these things, but you're right. I'll see you at the train station." Then quickly, as if he was afraid his nerve would fail him, he spun around and bolted into the great hall.
Hermione snorted to herself as she turned around. Melodramatic little… She froze. In the shadows at the end of the hall stood a tall, dark figure… like a sentry waiting for her to pass. Trying hard to ignore the churning of her stomach, she summoned up her courage and walked up to him.
"Severus… have you come to see me off?"
"I heard you were departing." He fell into step beside her as they moved towards the doors. "Connemara, is it?"
She nodded.
"It seems a rather small university for a witch of your stature."
"That's the point. Minerva actually described them as isolationist. Some of them may not even know Harry's name. It's a safe gamble that most won't know mine. A large number of the students are Muggleborn, and I won't face the kind of prejudice I've faced here."
"Because of you, that will change for your successors here."
"I hope that's true," she said.
"Minerva is one of those who is determined that it shall be."
"Are you?"
He shook his head. "I will not be returning to Hogwarts. Although, I shall take on private apprentices, and small groups of students, who wish to continue their studies at advanced or specialized levels beyond Hogwarts."
"In other words, those who have advanced beyond the level of dunderheads," she said slyly.
"That is my objective," Snape replied, with great dignity.
"That's wonderful," she told him, honestly. "Oh! Draco…"
"I have already spoken to him. He is not yet ready to make that commitment, but I am confident that he will, in time. He has great potential in many magical subjects, but I don't wish to discourage or distract him from taking responsibility for his family's assets."
They were standing in front of the doors. She turned to him, and said, "There's something I've never thanked you for."
He frowned.
"For keeping your promise about Harry," she explained.
"I am not in the habit of breaking my word," he said flatly. Then he admitted, "I'm pleased to see that he fully comprehends the reason for your choice, in the end." His face darkened. "Even if others do not."
"He's less forgiving than I am. I understand why some still feel that way."
"Than for the first time, I am more of Potter's mind, where their treatment of you is concerned."
"I appreciate that, but I would prefer that everyone just forgive each other," she said.
"Such things don't happen quickly; forgiveness is easy when you are young."
Hermione laughed. "Tell that to Harry!"
Snape raised his eyebrow. "I take it, then, that he did not tell you that he requested my assistance in transferring one third of the contents of his bank vault over to the Weasley family vault, just this very morning. And another third to Remus Lupin."
Hermione's mouth fell open, and he added, " I doubt they have even received the notice yet."
"But… but Harry…"
"Remains a wealthy young man, second only to Draco in the Order."
"And here I thought nothing he did would surprise me anymore." She suddenly recalled how Harry had looked behind her before changing his mind about saying good-bye to Remus and Ginny. Why had he… Her mouth fell open for the second time in five minutes. "Oh god! He knows!"
Snape actually blushed. "He does."
"Did he hex you?"
"No."
"Did you hex him?"
"No."
"So, he knows it's all over with?"
"Is it?"
She stared at him. Looking slightly uncomfortable, Snape said," Hermione. I have no wish to force you into any situation… I am aware that Draco made an offer…"
"I don't want Draco," she said sharply, then cringed and added, "At least, not like that."
He waited for her to continue.
"I know what kind of a man I want… I've always known." She couldn't look at him anymore, and whispered, "That part is easy. The trouble is…" Dammit, her throat was getting too tight to talk. "The trouble is that I realized, in the last few weeks of the war, that I'm not the person that I want to be, when I'm finally with him. I need some time to become that person."
Snape had come very close to her, without her actually seeing him move. There was a softness in his eyes that she'd never seen before, or maybe she had seen it before… months ago, but hadn't realized in those moments, what it truly meant. He raised one hand, and cautiously touched his fingers to her hair, and trailed it down the side of her face.
"You plan your life with true wisdom." His thumb brushed her cheek one more time, then he lowered his hand and stepped back from her. "Throughout the war, it was I who made the plans for myself, and then, for you. I know they were not easy for you. It is well that now you should make the plans yourself. I will not interfere, but will await my place in them, if you will have me."
"How will I find you?"
"I have always trusted in your ingenuity. If ever you are ready, you will know the way."
If… With his eyes and his voice, so close to her, she felt a desperate desire to qualify it, to make it when, but her rational side held her back. He had given her time to make that decision, and she knew she was too confused in her mind, and too befuddled in her heart, to make it wisely. Time to do the sensible thing, the rational thing.
She stepped to one side, and he stepped out of her path, clearing the way to the door.
"Good-bye, Severus." Without looking back, she walked straight and determined, out through the doors, and let them fall closed behind her.
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